The Snake

My love and I, the other day,
Within a myrtle arbor lay,
When near us, from a rosy bed,
A little Snake put forth its head.

" See, " said the maid, with laughing eyes —
" Yonder the fatal emblem lies!
Who could expect such hidden harm
Beneath the rose's velvet charm? "

Never did moral thought occur
— In more unlucky hour than this;
For oh! I just was leading her
— To talk of love and think of bliss.

I rose to kill the snake, but she
In pity prayed it might not be.
" No, " said the girl — and many a spark
— Flashed from her eyelid as she said it —
" Under the rose, or in the dark,
— One might, perhaps, have cause to dread it;
But when its wicked eyes appear,
— And when we know for what they wink so,
One must be very simple, dear,
— To let it sting one — don't you think so? "
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